


shine on, diamond

by fatherwon



Series: my my my! [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Comfort/Angst, Kihyun Is Hurt But Kiho Still Love Eachother, M/M, Stripper Yoo Kihyun, Strippers & Strip Clubs, does this count as fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 16:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14452758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatherwon/pseuds/fatherwon
Summary: hoseok just wants to salvage what he can from the rubble of what they used to be, but everything is falling apart so fast.





	shine on, diamond

**Author's Note:**

> —finally writes a stripper/exotic dancer au because we ! need ! more ! stripper ! aus ! + i love the concept of a stripper kihyun with rich boy hoseok sjshksjs
> 
> ive learnt my lesson by writing a 60k word fic in one go, so i decided to turn this fic into a series yay !

The silk of Hyungwon's shirt ripples with small waves as he brings a hand up to his ear, fiddling with the the thin chains that hang from it. They're a light gold, delicate and thinly weaved, dangling down to brush over the bare skin of Hyungwon's shoulder. He's standing in front of one of the private rooms, tucked away at the far back of the club for individual sessions with the dancers, his thickly-lined eyes skillfully avoiding Hoseok's. His hair is artfully messy, sticking up in different directions and his lips are rubbed red and raw. Hoseok can tell he's just finished up with a client.

 “He's not here,” Hyungwon says, as if anticipating the question on Hoseok's tongue. He combs a hand through his ruffled, brown hair and adjusts the thick, black choker wrapped around his neck with deft fingers. Hoseok doesn't need a name to know who Hyungwon is talking about — doesn't need a name to know why he's been pacing restlessly outside the private rooms, waiting for one of them to creak open.

There's a hint of rigidness to Hyungwon's form, a tightness to the dancer’s shoulders that catches Hoseok's eye, some type of glimmer in his dark eyes that tells Hoseok he knows _something_ — more than what he's letting on. It's the same type of rigidness that had diffused all over Changkyun when he'd seen Hoseok walking into the club. The younger boy had still waved him over to the lavish bar and fixed him a drink, a bright blue liquid brimming an expensive-looking, crystalline glass.

It's the third time Hoseok has swung by the club this week, asking after Kihyun every time he does, only to be told that the said dancer is occupied with a client or unavailable. Changkyun offers consolation in the form of small smiles and apologetic glances, Minhyuk tends to dodge all of Hoseok's questions skillfully, busying himself with entertaining guests and serving drinks, Jooheon conveniently keeps himself occupied with managing the music, and Hyungwon spews bits and pieces of information when he deems it convenient.

Hoseok leans against the corridor wall, his jacket puffing around his shoulders. He wraps a palm around his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as he groans into it. He hasn't seen Kihyun in days, hasn't heard his voice or touched his skin in so long that his bones have begun to ache for the said boy. Fragments of their time together float through Hoseok's head, warm and comforting, glowing with a sublime orange light, like firewood crackling in a furnace. The past few days have dragged by slowly, like a heavy weight being pulled through thick layers of sand, clawing deeper and deeper down the hollow pit seared into Hoseok's heart.

Even on the backs of his eyelids, Hoseok sees Kihyun, imprinted and there to stay. Hoseok sees Kihyun's smile, his eyes crinkled up into pretty, little crescents and lips curled wide around a heart laugh; Kihyun lying in his bed, naked under the sheets and artfully tangled in the duvet; Kihyun holding onto his hands and tugging him through the neighborhood he lives in, laughing, smiling and _happy_ ; Kihyun sprawled over the sheets under Hoseok, bare and stripped,flushed with a pinkish glow, his fingers tangled in Hoseok's hair as they kiss slowly; Kihyun curled up in his lap, gazing deep into his eyes and telling Hoseok he loves him, whispering it over his lips.

With every breath, Hoseok winds up reminiscing the same boy who walked ever so luxuriously into Hoseok's heart, webbing himself into Hoseok's heartstrings, and leaving him frayed and torn at the edges. Because Kihyun hasn't talked to Hoseok — hasn't called, texted or even seen him — in so long that Hoseok wonders whether their time together was a lovely, crimson, intangible dream.

The press of Hyungwon's fingers against his forearm snaps Hoseok out of his reverie — snaps Hoseok out of Kihyun, more like, because Hoseok has let himself drown in the younger boy.

“You should try upstairs,” Hyungwon suggests cautiously, his big eyes boring into Hoseok's with meaning. Spots of purple and gold glitter dot Hyungwon's eyelids, right over the thick stripes of liner swept along his lashline. Hoseok remembers with an aching heart how Kihyun's makeup had looked so similar the night they met. Gentle clouds of gold and pink pressed onto the soft skin of his eyelids, seeping up to his brow bones and dissolving into a white-gold shimmer. Kihyun had Hoseok hooked in tight by his navel that night (and every night since), like dry, desert sand that thirsts for water.

"I saw him sitting around with some customers there earlier,” Hyungwon finishes, swiping his tongue over his bruised bottom lip, his eyes dropping down to stare at the floor. Hoseok doesn't miss the look of guilt that flashes across Hyungwon's face as the dancer chews on his lip, retracting his hand from Hoseok's arm to tuck a loose tendril of brown hair behind his ear. It hurts Hoseok's heart to know Kihyun didn't want him knowing his whereabouts.

But there's a strange feeling of consolation that exudes itself from Hyungwon's repented posture. It's enough to have Hoseok brushing his hand over Hyungwon's bare shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, and bounding up a winding staircase. It's an opulent piece of black marble, fringed with a wrought iron railing that curls into flowers and petals along the length of the stairs, a complement to the extravagance of the club, dripping in expensive furniture, a vast variety of alcohol and amenities that scream splendour and money.

Hoseok easily folds himself into one of the sumptuous chaises spread out over the second tier of the club, overlooking the lower floor, like a balcony that juts out into an ocean of pink glitter and flashing purple, blue, fuchsia lights. He picks restlessly at the seam of the fabric dotted along the armrest with the intention of fraying the threads. Promptly, as if on cue, a boy with hair the colour of twilight, just barely hanging below his jawline, serves him a drink. This one's red, the colour of perfectly ripe cherries, and poured over a heap of ice. A thin straw sits along the rim. Hoseok thanks the boy, who beams at him before walking away with a swivel of his hips.

Glass in hand, Hoseok takes the straw between his lips and chews at it. His eyes flicker from one corner of the area to the next, taking in the faint clouds of smoke forming halos overhead and the smell of sweet perfume and alcohol. There's a boy, dressed in silk and chains, wearing shades of blue and purple, sitting luxuriously on the armrest of a leather sofa. (Hoseok notices all the dancers are dressed in some type of silk tonight, complemented by chains and delicate jewelry. He assumes it's a theme they've all unanimously agreed upon.)

The boy has a cloud of white, fluffy hair sitting atop his head and three strips of thin, black silk wrapped around his neck. With a jolt, Hoseok realises it's  Minhyuk _,_ elegant and handsy as ever, flirting with a group of extravagantly dressed men.  

He's just about to wave him over when a familiar mop of ruffled, brown hair streaks through the area, and Hoseok immediately recognises the willowy, retreating form as Kihyun. When their eyes meet across the expanse of the floor, Hoseok's heart thrumming against his ribs, like a caged bird, Kihyun quickly looks away and trots down the spiralling staircase, the pendant around his neck bouncing with every haste-ridden step. And Hoseok doesn't waste a breath before chasing after him, jogging down the steps until he catches Kihyun's wrist. He's careful to keep his grip gentle, so he doesn't end up pressing the several bracelets wrapped around Kihyun's wrist into his skin.

It's easy to back Kihyun up into an alcove under the stairs (Kihyun always softens under Hoseok's touch), pressing him against the wall until they're so close together Hoseok might as well just melt into Kihyun's bones. He smells delicately of ripe peaches, his skin shimmering with gold dust and his eyes painted with bronze. Kihyun's blouse, fine blue silk, has been eased away to expose his left shoulder, and Hoseok wants to kiss all over the smooth curve, along Kihyun's collarbones and up the side of his neck. Like this, wedged between Hoseok and the wall, Kihyun looks so petite and fragile, overshadowed by Hoseok's broad shoulders and thick arms. It's all so familiar — looking at Kihyun, being so close to him, holding him — that Hoseok's head is spinning in wide, concentric circles.

Despite being pressed into a wall, Kihyun keeps squirming in Hoseok's hold, trying to wriggle out from between his arms and desperately pushing at Hoseok's chest with tiny, balled fists. His eyes dart all over the place, sparkling under the dull club lights, and for a second, Hoseok thinks he sees a glassy sheen of tears covering them. He's looking everywhere but at Hoseok, and it only makes Hoseok want to cradle Kihyun's face within his hands just so he can look into the same eyes that had swallowed him whole the first time they met.

“Ki. Kihyun, baby. Stop," Hoseok urges softly, his eyes gentle and full of love as he grabs Kihyun's wrists to keep him from pounding at his chest. Kihyun instantly keens under the touch, relenting in Hoseok's hold so his hands are carefully balled up against Hoseok's chest.

When Kihyun finally settles into Hoseok's gaze, Hoseok's belly swoops with warm delight, because Kihyun is so beautiful and pure and lovely. It only gnaws slowly at Hoseok's insides, because Kihyun is here, standing in front of him, looking at Hoseok like he's all he can see, and Hoseok has missed this _so much._ He's missed his baby so much.

“Why are you doing this?” Hoseok asks, his fingers pressing into the grooves of Kihyun's wrist bone. Kihyun's hands ease up where they're draped over Hoseok's chest, and it fills Hoseok with warmth and soft light. "Whydo you keep running away? Why won't you talk to me?" 

Kihyun turns away, dipping his head down. Pieces of his tousled hair fall messily over his forehead, and Hoseok reaches to brush them away, smiling when Kihyun leans slightly into the touch. Sighing, Hoseok says, “Kihyun. Kihyun. Look at me, baby.”

A little hesitant, Kihyun meets Hoseok's gaze, peering up at the blonde through spidery lashes. He chews anxiously at his bottom lip, stopping when Hoseok presses his thumb against the swell of his lip, gently pulling it out from between his teeth.

Kihyun's eyes flutter closed, his eyelashes resting so, so prettily over the delicate skin right over the apples of his cheeks, and Hoseok wants to kiss him — all over with soft presses of his lips, just to show Kihyun how much he's loved and cherished. So that Kihyun knows just how precious and beautiful he is.

“Hoseok, why are you here?” He whispers. The words hang stagnant in the air around them, echoing loudly in Hoseok's ears and pulling his heartstrings taut, like a fully drawn bowstring ready to snap, and he wonders just how much more he can take before he comes undone.

There's a thick knot tying itself around Hoseok's windpipe, and every breath feels strained and inadequate.

“Kiki, I had to see you. We haven't talked since I got back, and I needed _\--_  I still need to talk to you,” Hoseok explains, bringing a hand up to Kihyun's face. He presses two fingers to Kihyun's cheekbone, using his thumb to trace over the soft lines of Kihyun's red lips. They're so lush and rosy, a streak of bright colour over Kihyun's pale skin, Hoseok wants to bite them softly. “I've missed you so much. There are things I need to fix and--”

"Hoseok, please don't do this. You can't fix everything," Kihyun mumbles against Hoseok's lips when the blonde leans closer to kiss him, softly pecking them with an open mouth.

The touch is gentle, barely there, like the lovely stroke of a feather over Kihyun's skin. Kihyun can feel his knees wobbling under his weight, screaming and threatening to buckle under him. Maybe Hoseok would scoop him up in his arms if he were to crumple to the ground, holding Kihyun from under his thighs and shoulders, and carry him upstairs. Maybe he'd curl up with Kihyun in bed, stroke his hair and kiss him, telling Kihyun how lovely he is. It all makes Kihyun feel dizzy and disoriented, as if he's treading through thick fog. All he wants is to hold Hoseok, touch him, tell him he loves him.

But Kihyun bites back all the words bubbling at the back of his throat, gathers all his feelings and pushes them into a small, locked box at the back of his head. Gently pushing at Hoseok's shoulders, Kihyun huddles closer to the wall, trying to push himself into it until he becomes a part it. “Not here. Not now. I'm working.”

“That never stopped you before,” Hoseok says, the light in his eyes dimming and his fingers fondly playing with the tips of Kihyun's hair. "If not now, then when?"

Kihyun sniffles, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his blouse. The top three are undone, exposing smooth, papery skin, dotted with glitter. Thin, gold chains dangle from Kihyun's choker, hanging over his throat and glittering like stardust. Kihyun always works hard on his appearance, decorating himself with jewels, chains and fine silks to please the guests. But Hoseok thinks Kihyun looks most beautiful and sublime when he's bare of makeup and opulent jewelry, when Hoseok can see the moles speckling his cheeks, the stretch marks streaking the soft skin of his thighs and the natural pink contours of his lips which Hoseok loves to bite into and suck on so much.

A thin chain, silver like a moonbeam, rests prettily over the base of Kihyun's throat, overshadowed by a thicker chain that's strung with a green pendant. It glints delicately in the purple dark; pearly and fine, like thread, a gift from Hoseok. 

"I don't-- I don't know, Hoseok," Kihyun says, quiet and small. 

"Kihyun," Hoseok urges. He gently trails a finger over the chain where it hangs around Kihyun's throat, pressing the metal into soft skin, his heart fluttering at the sight. Kihyun wearing it means he still thinks about Hoseok — it means he hasn't thrown Hoseok away. "When?" 

“Hoseok, please _._ Don't. I can't. I just can't,” Kihyun murmurs as Hoseok's fingertips brush softly over his skin. His voice is a hushed, tentative whisper and his lips are parted every so slightly. Hoseok thinks he can press his thumb between them and croons at the thought of Kihyun's soft mouth sucking, languid, slow and teasingly, on his fingers. There's a pleading glint in Kihyun's dark eyes — they are glassy and his lashes wet and damp with unshed tears. “You have to let me go.”

Hoseok's fingers freeze where they're tracing over Kihyun's throat. For few moments, he looks at Kihyun with quiet eyes, watching him go back to chewing at his lip and drawing the slippery-smooth sleeves of his blouse over his hands. He looks so small and delicate, a piece of porcelain balanced precariously on the edge of a countertop. Hoseok wants to tug him closer, hold him, card gentle fingers through his hair and whisper words of solace and love into the soft skin of his neck.

But eventually, with a heavy, pounding heart, Hoseok steps back, his hands trembling at his sides. The dancer slips away from him easily, his head dipped down low and fingers morphing his blouse sleeves out of shape as he winds back up the staircase and disappears into a cluster of dancers milling about, taking Hoseok's heart with him.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos & comments are always appreciated ♥ 
> 
> come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/fuzzykiho)  
> and [cc](https://curiouscat.me/fuzzykiho) !!!!!!


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